Unexpected
by yellowsubmarine31
Summary: Bad summary, but Auror Harry Potter gets in an accident and runs into the most unexpected person in the most unexpected place...rated M for later. HPxDM
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Harry Potter. Any of it. Believe me, it saddens me every day...

A/N: Right, so this is my first story that I'm publishing on here...hehe *bit of a nervous laugh*. I've never shown any of my writing to, well, anyone before. So this is a strange and frankly scary thing for me- I'm an incredibly self-conscious person. But anyway, I kind of figure hey- might as well! Oh and also, I had NO idea what to call this story- I'm complete crap at titles. But nevermind, I'll get on with it. Here goes nothing...

* * *

Harry Potter was cold, wet, and very, very annoyed. He stood casually against a lamppost, a Muggle cigarette between his fingers- not only because it looked more inconspicuous to have something to do, but because he'd picked up the habit some time ago and frankly rather enjoyed it. He was dressed to blend in with his surroundings: Muggle jeans, a plain grey tee shirt, and black trainers.

The weather outside wasn't cold, seeing as it was mid-July, but as he didn't have an umbrella, the rain had soaked into his skin and chilled him. Now he finally stood under an awning, but he had spent hours under no shelter whatsoever. Luckily, few people were around- it would be quite strange to see a man standing so casually in the drizzle, seemingly content with getting wet. By this point, all Harry wanted to do was go home.

But of course, he couldn't do that. He was on a stakeout- some former Death Eater was suspected of nefarious activities, and Harry had been sent undercover to figure it out. He was in America- Chicago, to be exact- and so far all he had seen were rain, Muggles, and not a single threat to the wizarding world.

He checked his Muggle watch- another disguise, considering how it would look to cast a _Tempus_ charm in the middle of the city- and heaved a relieved sigh. It was midnight, meaning his day was over. He could go back to his hotel, and sleep until he resumed his post the next afternoon (though he hadn't been able to sleep much recently anyway). With the thought of getting out of the wet streets on his mind, he began the short walk back to his hotel.

He never saw the car coming. One minute, the street seemed fairly empty- and the next, a horn blared, and he turned to see a twin set of headlights coming towards him at rapid pace, and he braced himself because he knew it was going to hurt…and then suddenly, everything went black.

-----------------------------

Having nothing better to do on a Friday night, and knowing that his job was better than anything else he could have planned anyway, Draco Malfoy had signed up to work an extra shift in the emergency room- the graveyard shift. He arrived at eleven pm, prepared for stab wounds, heart attacks, street fights…whatever Chicago decided to throw his way.

An hour into his shift, his pager rang. The blood immediately began to course through his veins at an accelerated pace- _an emergency_. He had come to live for the beeping of the device constantly at his side. It meant he was needed, that he was now responsible for saving someone's life.

After the war against Voldemort had ended, and almost everyone he knew had died or been sent to Azkaban (including his own father), Draco moved to the last place anyone would ever think to find him: Muggle America. He went to school, and eventually became a Muggle doctor- something that came surprisingly naturally to him. It was fairly easy, and he finished medical school early. He threw himself into his work, and found that he actually loved it. It never got old, the fascination of healing people without magic. Sure, he still used his wand at home- but nobody there knew that he was a wizard.

He fit in quite well in the Muggle world- something that, had someone told him so just a few years earlier, he would have laughed at for hours. Imagine: Draco Malfoy, Prince of the Pureblood Wizards, living amongst Muggles…and _enjoying_ it! The idea was hilarious, but nonetheless true.

Of course, his social life was rather stilted…or nonexistent, if he was to be completely honest with himself. Not that he didn't have offers of friendship- and many, many offers of dates- but work always took precedence. He had made a couple of fair friends at the hospital, but everybody knew him as "Doctor Malfoy, the workaholic." The nurses claimed it was a "sin to let something so handsome go to waste." But he never listened. He tried to tell himself that it was only work that made him so opposed to the idea of dating- because he did really love his job- and not the fact that none of the people there even somewhat enticed him. Surgery could be enough for him. He didn't need anything else.

So when, on that rainy July night, he answered the page, he was positively thrilled. The excitement of a new case always gave him a rush that so far, no human had been able to match.

He ran to meet the ambulance, where the EMT stood to give him all the information about the patient he currently pushed on a gurney. "Male, looks to be about twenty-six years old, found without I.D.- hit by a car, resulting in severe internal bleeding and multiple fractures."

Draco nodded at the man's words. He barely looked at the unconscious patient beside him as they entered the hospital, knowing he would examine him once they got into a room. All he saw was that the face was mostly covered by bandages and an intubation apparatus, and black hair that vaguely reminded him of something he couldn't quite place that stuck out on the man's head.

Once in a room, Draco checked the man's torso for signs of any trauma that may need immediate care. He checked the pulse, which was faint but there, all the time barking orders at his staff, who listened to him immediately. After all- he hadn't risen to become one of the youngest yet most capable doctors that the hospital had ever seen by not knowing what he was doing.

Once the John Doe case had finally stabilized, Draco paused for a minute as the EMT's words echoed in his head. "_Looks to be about twenty-six years old…_"

Draco was twenty-six. He was the same age as this man, who now lay unconscious in a hospital bed. The thought terrified him. He removed the bandages and looked up to see the face of his patient…and nearly fell unconscious himself. Finally, he found his voice enough to choke out, "…_Potter_?"

* * *

A/N (again): So, there's Chapter 1. I've got about 8 more chapters already written, which I'll put up based on if people like. Thoughts? Constructive crit? Should I put more? Tell me what you think...

xx,  
JB


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for the lovely reviews on the first chapter, they made me smile (which is a difficult task, first thing in the morning when I know I have to go to work.) So many thanks to you all :D  
to 59ukefan: I never said it, but in my mind he works at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in downtown Chicago (I have spent a lot of time there, I know it well ahah)- just cause you said you wanted to know ;)  
and to bakaneko817: I agree, I can see Draco doing what he does and wanting to save lives. And details are important to me too- plus, I just find the idea of Harry smoking sexy...kind of a guilty pleasure in my thoughts ahaha

And now here's my next installment...

* * *

Chapter 2

The first thing that Harry became aware of was a constant beeping. He wondered vaguely what on Earth that could be, and decided to open his eyes and find out- which ended up being a colossal mistake.

The second thing that he became aware of was a headache that threatened to split his brain in two. It hurt to simply open his eyes, and when he did it felt like looking through sandpaper. He blinked a few times, and instinctively reached out for his glasses. When he finally found them on a table next to…wherever he lay, he pulled them on and the world came a little bit back into focus.

He searched around for a bit, and finally found the source of the beeping- it came from a machine next to the bed he was in. When he finally gained full consciousness, he realized that he was in a hospital- and not St. Mungo's, but a _Muggle _hospital. Images suddenly came flooding back- the stakeout, walking back to his hotel, the car…oh god, the car had hit him.

Just then, a cheerful-looking woman came into the room. "Oh, you're awake!" she exclaimed, seeing him sitting up. "That's excellent!" As she checked…whatever she needed to check, Harry wondered for just how long he had been out. And he was about to ask her as much, when she announced that she would get the doctor- and Harry decided to ask whoever that was when they came in.

The nurse left, leaving him alone for a few minutes. He examined the various tubes and wires that protruded from his body, wondering vaguely what they all did- and what had happened to him to require them. But all of that was forgotten when the doctor walked in, because Harry would have recognized the platinum blonde man anywhere in the world. "Malfoy?!"

The blonde adopted his typical smirk- oh yes, _definitely_ Malfoy- and replied, "Good morning, Potter- I see you are finally awake." He set down the chart he'd been holding, and walked over to Harry's bedside. With a start, he realized that Malfoy meant to _touch_ him, and immediately recoiled.

"Relax, Potter, I am a trained professional," he said with a quick sigh. "Unfortunately for me, I have taken a Hippocratic oath which forbids me from killing you- so stop cowering like a child and let me examine you."

He pressed his fingers to various parts of Harry's abdomen, which he hadn't quite realized hurt until that moment. "Ouch!" he hissed, as Malfoy hit a particularly painful spot near his ribs. Malfoy merely wrote something down on his chart, and otherwise paid Harry no mind.

"Malfoy, what the hell are you -_ow_- doing here?" he asked, figuring he might as well talk while being prodded at.

"I am saving your bloody life, is what I am doing," the Slytherin replied wryly, that trademark smirk still evident on his face.

Harry sighed. "No, I meant what are you doing here, with…_Muggles_?" he corrected, the last word spoken in a hushed voice. The last place on Earth he would have ever expected to find Draco Malfoy would be exactly the place where he was now. Harry was astounded.

The blonde adopted a faraway look for a moment, his grey eyes oddly out of focus. It was such a strange look for the man that Harry immediately felt a strange pang in his chest that seemed eerily similar to sympathy. For the first time, he noticed how…beautiful the man really was.

That thought was quickly shut out of his head. The accident must have done something to mess with his brain, because he did _not_ just think of Draco Malfoy as _beautiful_. That was impossible- as was the sudden urge to reach out at grab his hand, which Harry quickly tried to quell.

Finally, Malfoy spoke again. But he ignored Harry's question, and instead replied in a clipped tone, "I am not in the habit of discussing my personal life with patients, Potter- and I am sure as hell not about to start with you. I'll be back again in a couple of hours." And then he was gone.

-------------------------------

Draco was furious. Harry Potter had _no_ right to just waltz back into his life after eight- no, _nine_- years. The man had been a thorn in Draco's side since they were eleven years old, and now he was back to start it up again! It was completely unfair. Draco was finally happy…okay, he was as close to 'happy' as he figured he'd ever get- and now Potter had fucked it all up! It just wasn't fair for the Gryffindor to come back to his life, with his black hair even more mussed up than usual, looking sexy even after a horrible accident…

_What the hell_? The doctor thought frantically. _Where did that thought come from? Potter isn't sexy, he's a bloody menace!_ Harry Potter was _not_ sexy. Draco just had to keep telling himself that.

It became his internal mantra over the next couple of days, in order to maintain his sanity as he watched over Potter. He forced himself not to care that sometime in the last nine years, the man had traded in his thick round glasses for a pair of lightweight silver frames. He ignored the fact that they looked incredible on him. He trained his eyes from ever really _looking_ at Potter, because he knew that if he did, he would never stop.

After all, the somewhat awkward boy he'd first met in Diagon Alley all those years ago was gone. He'd been replaced by lanky muscle, sculpted from many years of playing Quidditch (prompting Draco to wonder if he still played at all). The boyish roundness of his face had filled out into finely chiseled features. And his hair…well, Draco supposed some things would never change. His hair still stuck out in every direction, but now instead of looking like he didn't own a comb, it gave him a just-shagged appearance that Draco pretended didn't make his heart jump into his throat. He quickly repeated his mantra: _Potter isn't sexy._

_...Shit._ This could not be good.

* * *

A/N: Alright, Chapter 2 is up! Let me know your thoughts =)

xx,  
JB

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Yay, finally putting Chapter 3 up! I hosted a kind of randomly thrown together party for a bunch of people last night, so I had like no time to post anything. But now I have time (thankfully), and here it is! Glad people seem to be liking it so far =)  
Disclaimer: forgot to do this last time, but nope I don't own anything except my own writing.

* * *

Chapter 3

There was absolutely nothing to do in the hospital. Besides regular checks, Harry was left alone for most of the day with nothing to do but think. It was probably because he went insane from the solitude (at least, that was how he justified it to himself) that he one day actually began to talk with Draco Malfoy.

The blonde doctor had come to check on him once again. He'd informed Harry that he'd had surgery- accompanied by ridiculous amounts of medical jargon that Harry didn't even pretend to understand. He knew the Slytherin had done it merely to flaunt his superiority. _What an ass-hat_.

But still, the Gryffindor could not deny his own boredom. So when Malfoy announced that he looked "healthy enough to make it out of another day alive," Harry said, "Wait a minute. Erm…stay and chat with me for a bit."

The blonde sighed and made a show of checking his watch. But he finally replied, "Alright, Potter, I've got some time. I'll entertain you for a bit."

They ended up talking for over an hour. Harry was shocked to find that the man was actually rather entertaining. He was obviously intelligent, and had a surprising sense of humor that Harry was rather pleased to discover. He had to admit- he actually enjoyed talking with Malfoy.

It became a daily occurrence. Whenever Malfoy had a break, he could be easily swayed into talking with Harry for awhile. The doctor even began to bring him food from outside the hospital, for which Harry was most grateful. He'd barely eaten in days, considering the quality of food there- and he hadn't even eaten on the day of his accident, being far too involved in his work.

One day, the blonde man showed up holding two plastic cups full of something he couldn't quite identify. One, half-empty, was obviously Malfoy's. The other was full, and Malfoy thrust it into Harry's hand. "Drink this," he instructed. "You look like death warmed over. This should fix that a bit."

Harry looked at him warily. "What is it?" he asked, taking the drink. It was cold, tan-colored, and had a green Starbucks label on the cup.

Malfoy sighed. "It's a caramel frappuccino, Potter. You look like you haven't slept properly in weeks. The caffeine and sugar should do you good."

"Alright, enough with the insults, Malfoy," Harry replied. But he had to grudgingly admit that the man was right. He _hadn't_ slept properly in weeks. So he took a sip of whatever he'd just been handed- and an onslaught of sweetened coffee hit his tongue like a _Stupefy_. The ludicrous amounts of sugar and caffeine rushed through his system, and actually made him feel better. And it was pretty delicious, considering the insane sweetness.

"Do you drink these every day?" he asked, incredulous.

The blonde merely shrugged and replied, "I like the taste." He then resumed an activity that Harry would never admit he found entrancing- sipping at his drink. The seemingly mundane actions fascinated the man in the bed. His cheeks hollowed the slightest bit as he sucked at the straw, and sometimes a bit would land on his lip. Malfoy would then dart a pink tongue out to lick at it, causing a tightening in Harry's stomach that had nothing to do with pain. He was loath to admit it, but fucking hell was it an erotic sight.

He had to stay in the hospital for a few more days. During that time, he wasn't sure if his boss, Kingsley Shacklebolt, even knew where he was- nor did he care. It felt surprisingly good to be away from his responsibilities for awhile, even under the circumstances. It was almost…fun.

The day finally came when one of the nurses announced that he was being discharged. Harry tried to deny it, but he actually felt somewhat sad about that fact. He'd come to enjoy the company of his obnoxious blonde doctor, and now that he was leaving, he would most likely never see him again. The thought depressed him more than it should have. _For Merlin's sake, it's Malfoy!_ He chastised internally. _You aren't going to bloody miss him- don't be ridiculous about this!_

When Malfoy came to formally discharge him, he actually asked Harry what he would do now that he was free- without sarcasm or insults, surprisingly enough. Harry, too shocked at the apparent sincerity to even shoot back, 'Why do you care, Malfoy?' replied honestly. "I dunno, really. Probably Apparate back to London and get back to Auror life." He tried not to sigh at how dull that sounded- and really tried not to think about how dull it actually _was_.

To his even greater surprise, Malfoy glared at him. "Apparate all the way to London?" he echoed angrily. "In your condition? Not bloody likely- you'll Splinch yourself into six different pieces! Absolutely not, Potter. As your doctor, I have to give the final order- you are staying in this city."

The Gryffindor could only nod. "Erm…alright," he replied. He wanted to argue, but the steel-grey eyes looked almost _frightened_ at the possibility of Harry getting Splinched! He would have to think about that possibility later, because he then said, "I'll go back to my hotel for a few days then, is that okay?"

Malfoy seemed to think for a few moments before replying, "Knowing you, Potter- which I do- you'll somehow wind up dead if I leave you alone while you're still healing. You are staying with me."

Harry's eyes widened to almost comic proportions. _What??_

--------------------------

He had to have been out of his mind- that was the only explanation for it. There was no way he was thinking clearly when he invited Potter to come fucking _live_ with him!

_Only for a few days_, he countered. It would only be a few days, and then the shaggy-haired Gryffindor would be out of his house and out of his life forever. Draco tried to pretend that it didn't fairly nauseate him to think of Potter leaving.

He discharged him from the hospital- something about which the Auror was clearly ecstatic. Draco couldn't really blame him either, after keeping him locked there like a caged animal for the past few days. He left the room so that Potter could dress in his own clothes, which was as much for his own benefit as the other man's. Thinking about Potter in various states of undress was sending some highly unwelcome thoughts through his brain.

When the man was finally dressed, they went down to the parking garage. Draco pulled his keys from the pocket of his trousers and pressed a button. The man next to him raised a raven-colored brow. Draco smirked.

"What, Potter- shocked at seeing me drive a Muggle car? Honestly, you're denser than I thought. How did you expect me to get around the city, by broom?"

A fetching blush crept up Potter's face- Draco had to admit that he rather enjoyed the sight of the Savior of the Wizarding World getting embarrassed. _And it has nothing to do with him looking cute_, he told himself firmly. Potter was _not_ cute.

"What kind of car is this, anyway?" he asked as they approached.

"It's a Mercedes," Draco replied, and slid into the driver's seat. He wouldn't lie- hiding out in the Muggle world could be awful at times. At first, it was near impossible. But once he got used to it, he realized that it wasn't actually all that bad- and he had to admit that he found he loved to drive. And if he was going to be stuck hiding amongst Muggles, then he wanted to at least have the luxury of a nice car. So he bought his SL550 Roadster- a frivolous expense, but hey- Draco _was_ a doctor. And it was completely worth it.

When they arrived at his flat, Draco gave a quick tour to his new houseguest, and showed him the room where he would stay. He opened the door to the room, where a black bag sat on the edge of the bed.

"You got my things?" Potter asked, obviously in disbelief.

Draco shrugged and tried to appear as if it was no big deal. "I made a few calls," he replied nonchalantly.

In actuality, he had made quite a few calls. That Auror was damn hard to track down! It had taken almost all of Draco's efforts to locate the other man's hotel and get his things for him. Potter grinned, and Draco had to do the same. That stupid Gryffindor just had to have an infectious smile! But he quickly remembered himself, and stopped smiling like an idiot just at the fact that his gesture had apparently made Potter happy.

"Right, erm…settle in then," he finally said. "The bathroom is through there, get me if you need something. I'll go make dinner."

And then he left the room, leaving Potter to his own devices. He went to the kitchen, content in knowing that cooking would calm his nerves. Cooking _always_ managed to calm his nerves. After turning into practically a recluse, Draco figured he needed a hobby. So he began to pick up cookbooks, and taught himself a few recipes. After that, he found that it was surprisingly easy, and quite fun- so he learned some more. Now he could cook just about anything- and he had a wonderful time discovering new recipes and trying them out. Cooking also had the benefit of being a great way to relieve his stress- of which he had much. And now, he finally had someone to cook for.

_Just for a few days! _he reminded himself sternly, and set about making the food while his guest settled in.

Potter joined him awhile later, looking slightly more content now that he had his own things. "What's for dinner?" he inquired. "It smells delicious."

Draco tried to hide his smile at the compliment. "Salmon," he replied. "And if you don't eat, it'll get cold, so go on then."

He had feared they would fall into awkward silence, but the two men carried on a conversation as if they were old friends. At the hospital, Draco had found that he actually liked the company of the raven-haired wizard. He was pleased to discover that it didn't change now that Potter was at his house. In fact if anything, he enjoyed it even more.

His only problem, he discovered, was trying not to listen to anything but Potter's speech. Especially when the man did…_that_. He'd obviously not even eaten a decent meal in months, because when he first bit into the fish he made a soft moaning sound that made Draco's breath catch. A quiet "Mmm" from the other man sent a jolt of electricity straight to the pit of Draco's stomach, and made desire pool in his groin. His trousers suddenly became just a bit too tight for comfort. _Damn that Gryffindor_, he thought bitterly. He would have to rein his feelings in.

* * *

A/N: Mkay, so there's Chapter 3. As always, reviews are lovely. Thank you!

xx,  
JB


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: mkay- Chapter 4 time! Not too much to say, just that I hope you like it and review pleeeeease =D

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Or do I...?

* * *

Within a few hours, Harry already realized that he enjoyed being Malfoy's roommate. Honestly, the man could _cook_. He hadn't really been paying attention to his diet before, usually eating whatever he could find before going off to work. But at the first taste of the blonde man's cooking, he knew he was ruined for anything else. Now how was he supposed to go back to his daily routine??

After dinner they chatted comfortably for awhile before heading off to bed. Harry had the best night's sleep he'd had in years…accompanied partly (okay, mostly) by dreams of a certain blonde, naked and writhing beneath him. He woke up harder than he had ever been.

After taking care of _that_ issue, Harry figured he could use a shower. Unable to find towels in his own bathroom, he walked down the hall and knocked on Malfoy's door. A muffled "Just a minute!" came from inside, and Harry leaned against the opposite wall, wondering what could possibly take the man so long.

A few seconds later, that question was answered when Malfoy opened his bedroom door. He had obviously just finished taking a shower himself, because he wore nothing but a white towel around his waist. His platinum hair was dripping, and rivulets of water ran down a chest that seemed to be sculpted from marble. Harry swallowed hard, and tried desperately to think of something- _anything_- to keep from getting embarrassingly hard once again. So far, it wasn't really working. He just had to hope that Malfoy didn't notice.

"Did you need something?" the blonde Adonis asked, with a spark in his eye that confused Harry more than anything else.

"Um…towels," he finally managed to reply.

Malfoy nodded, and disappeared back into his bedroom for a moment. Harry didn't even try not to look at his backside as he walked away. And that was just as he'd thought- just as perfect as the front.

Once the man reappeared and handed him a couple of towels, Harry practically sprinted back down the hall to the guest bathroom. As he showered, the images of Malfoy's wet body came flooding back to him. Just like that, he was hard as a rock once again. As he reached a second release at the thought of the blonde, Harry finally admitted something to himself: he wanted Malfoy. And in his Gryffindor determination, he knew he had to get him.

-------------------------

Okay, so Potter had seen him nearly naked. And maybe Draco had enjoyed the flush on the other man's face, or his inability to create a fully formed sentence at the sight of him in a towel. And all right, so he _might_ have been thinking about the raven-haired man while he'd showered. But that did _not _mean that he was attracted to Harry Potter. _He's not even gay_! the logical part of Draco's brain screamed. Last he'd heard, Potter was practically engaged to the girl Weasley. The thought sent a white-hot flash of jealousy up his spine. The thought of Potter with that redheaded bint faintly nauseated him. He tried not to think about it.

He decided that having Potter as his houseguest didn't have to interfere with his life- not that he had much of a life- and threw himself back into his work. Surgeries took up most of his time as he fell back into the pattern.

He'd become a surgeon originally because the idea of saving somebody's life- completely unaided by magic- intrigued him. He never tired of hearing gracious 'Thank you's from the people who were afraid that their loved one was going to die before he healed them. But the other thing he really loved about surgery was the pattern of it: cut, fix, sew, repeat. It became almost mind-numbing, considering the concentration of it took up most of his brain…and Draco frequently needed something to occupy his mind.

When he came home, his short-term roommate could usually be found puttering around the flat- and usually grumbling something or other about not being allowed to do anything else. Those were Draco's orders, of course. He frequently checked the man's injuries to make sure they were healing properly, and forbade Potter from doing anything too strenuous. The man was, of course, a complete pain in the arse about the doctor's instructions, considering his profession. But Draco was firm in his demands, and made sure Potter stayed put.

One night, after a particularly stressful day, the blonde doctor barely barked a 'hello' at Potter before shutting himself up in his office. He attempted to do paperwork at his desk for a while before realizing that it was completely pointless. Instead, he threw down his pen and put his head in his hands, resigned to sit at his desk and stare out the window for a few hours. But apparently other people had different plans, because he soon heard the door open behind him. And seconds later, a pair of hands were on his shoulders, kneading the tension away from his skin, forcing a small sigh from between his lips.

Draco wanted nothing more than to lean into the feel of those hands, but he soon remembered himself and sat up straight. "What are you doing, Potter?" he asked gruffly, refusing to turn at look at the man.

"You looked stressed," the other man replied, and returned his hands to Draco's shoulders. He leaned forward, not ceasing his ministrations, and added breathily in Draco's ear, "I thought I could help."

A small shiver ran up Draco's spine. He tried to ignore the feeling that the man's hands seemed to send straight to his nether regions. He attempted to reason with himself. _What are you doing? This is your sworn enemy!_ He knew that the man had a dash of Slytherin cunning in him, so automatically wondered what the ulterior motive for all of this…_flirting_ with him could be. But the man would not stop, and Draco had to bite at his lower lip to suppress a moan. He nearly gasped as Potter's talented fingers worked at his back, occasionally moving forwards towards his chest or running back down his spine. It felt altogether too good. He had to stop it.

Shaking slightly, he stood up from his chair and turned to face Potter, fully intent on telling the man that his actions were entirely inappropriate- that he needn't try and win him over by flirting if he wanted something. After all, why on Earth would Potter do any of that, if not because he had some sneaky reason to do so? But when he looked at him, Potter did not have the calculating gaze or satisfied smirk that Draco was expecting. Instead his face was tinged pink, he bit nervously at his bottom lip, and his emerald eyes held something in him that Draco immediately recognized: desire. The look of the Gryffindor immediately sent waves of his own desire radiating throughout Draco's body. Damn it if the raven-haired man wasn't the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Oh, fuck it," he grumbled, and leaned forward to capture the other man's lips with his own.

* * *

A/N: So there it is- please review!! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I've had a bad day. Make me feel better?

xx,  
JB


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So I'm getting oral surgery in the morning- meaning I'll probably be incapacitated for a bit. But also, this means I won't have anything to do all day tomorrow except write, so woohoo! Hopefully I'll write more of this story. But meanwhile, I'll post another chapter I do have. As always, please review!

Disclaimer: I still don't own them.

OH, and this is your warning: yep, we're on THAT chapter: good 'ol sex. I'll warn you one more time, for good measure: THIS IS SLASH. Sex, with two men. I really hope you've realized this by now. If you don't want to read it...by all means, don't! Just wanted to get that out there so that no one gets all freaked out. In the meantime, I hope you like...

* * *

Harry tried not to squeal in surprise when Malfoy kissed him. He hadn't expected the blonde to give in so easily. But that look in the man's silver eyes when he'd stood up to face Harry…he had never seen anything quite so sexy in his entire life. Sure, he had been surprised- but he definitely wasn't complaining.

He leaned in to deepen the kiss, attempting to devour the other man in case this was his only chance to do so. Lips parted of their own accord, and Harry swept his tongue inside the other's mouth to taste every bit of him that he could. Malfoy tasted like sugar and longing, a sinfully delicious combination that Harry wanted to savor for the rest of his life.

He was reluctant to part, but soon breathing became essential to both men. Harry kissed a trail down Malfoy's jaw and neck, sucking at the gentle flesh and eliciting a moan from the blonde man. When he'd reached the collarbone, Malfoy lifted Harry's head up to look at him. He was afraid the blonde would come to his senses and begin to yell, and possibly kick him out for being so stupid. So it shocked him when Malfoy only uttered one word, dripping with need:

"Bedroom."

-------------------------

Draco wasn't quite sure what he was doing- all he knew was that whatever Potter had been doing to his neck threatened to turn him into a quivering, boneless mass. And he did not want it to stop.

Which was why he had taken hold of the man's hand and practically dragged him down the hall to his room- and once inside, they wasted no time. The Gryffindor's lips were on his again, his hands on Draco's hips, pushing him against the door. Fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, and he helped the other man along. He just yanked Potter's tee shirt off of his head in his haste to rid the man of clothing, glasses flying off along with it. They worked at trousers next- a frenzied blur of buttons and zippers and kicking pants off of ankles. They kissed each other passionately, tongues battling and breathing uneven, as Draco maneuvered them across the room. They finally fell back onto the bed, the blonde man above the brunette, not having stopped their kiss the entire way there.

Potter tugged at his boxers, which Draco removed happily as the other man did the same with his own. And then they were finally fully, gloriously naked against one another, still locked in a deep kiss- spurred on by the delicious contact of bare skin on bare skin. The raven-haired man switched their positions, and rolled on top of Draco to kiss a trail down his body.

"Oh god, beautiful Draco," he breathed, between kisses placed down the Slytherin's chest. "So, so beautiful…"

Draco couldn't help the rush of emotion he felt at the use of his first name. It sent a shiver of desire coursing through him, along with something else- something deeper- that he couldn't quite name.

But he was given little chance to think about it, because soon his cock was engulfed in the heat of the other man's mouth. He hissed in pleasure at the shock of it, and wrapped pale fingers into thick black hair, spurring him on. Waves of pleasure rolled through him, and he was headed straight for that fabulous point of no return…when suddenly the man stopped his movements and released Draco's aching cock from his mouth.

Draco opened his eyes and removed his fingers from the raven-colored hair. "What the fuck, Potter?" he growled, embarrassed at how uneven his breathing was.

The Gryffindor just chuckled, but then moved up to kiss Draco's lips. He broke from them after much too short a time (in Draco's opinion), but looked down at him with lust-darkened emerald eyes that seemed to turn the blonde's entire body to molten jelly.

"Not yet," he whispered against Draco's open mouth. "When you come, I want it to be with me buried deep inside you."

He was sure he had been hard before. But at those words, the Slytherin was positive his cock could rival diamond. The other man seemed to take his speechlessness as a sign to continue (which it was), and grabbed a pillow to place under Draco's hips. He muttered a quick spell (_When did he get his wand_? Draco wondered) against his fingers, and then pressed one into the blonde man's opening. He let Draco become accustomed to the feeling before adding another, stretching and preparing him for what was to come. A third finger was added, and it was uncomfortable, but Draco wanted _more_.

"Now," he finally gasped, putting a hand out to stop the movements inside of him. "Do it now."

The other man understood, and pulled out his fingers. Another muttered spell later, he positioned his cock against the prepared opening, and slowly slid himself into the blonde underneath him.

Draco hissed for the second time that night- this time, it was in pain. He wasn't sure how something so big was supposed to fit all the way inside, because _surely_ there was no way, and it felt like he was being ripped apart as the Gryffindor slid into him, and- _Oh, gods, brilliant._

He let out a moan of pure pleasure. The man had hit that spot inside of him that shot pleasure throughout his body in immeasurable amounts. He looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring down at him.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his words soft and full of worry even through the desire clearly laced throughout his voice.

Draco had to smile, unexpectedly touched by the concern the other man held for him. He wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor's neck.

"No," he replied. "That feels unbelievably amazing. Just…move."

Of course he complied. His movements were slow at first, but quickened at Draco's pleas of, "Faster…harder…oh, Merlin, that feels so good…"

And then a hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping in rhythm to the thrusts that repeatedly hit his prostate. Draco was sure he must have died, and that this was his heaven. He could only speak in heavy gasps, panting nonsense into the other man's ear:

"So good…oh gods, Harry, fuck me…"

He tightened his hold on the man's neck, bringing him down to kiss him, still mumbling nonsense words against the parted lips. Both men grew louder as they reached the edge, and Draco finally released with a loud cry of Harry's name. The Gryffindor reached his own orgasm moments later, releasing deep inside of the blonde before collapsing on him in a liquid heap.

Draco recovered first, and used Harry's wand to clean up the mess on both of their stomachs. Harry rolled off of him and steadied his breathing- and then sat up as if to get off of the bed and leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, confused. Did Potter not want to stay now that that was done? _Only one way to find out._ He reached out and grabbed the man's hand. "Stay here with me."

The returning grin he got from the raven-haired man answered his question. Harry crawled back into bed, and immediately gathered Draco in his arms. The blonde smiled softly, and curled against Potter's chest. He wrapped an arm around his waist, and waited until he could hear the other man's breathing steady before drifting off to sleep himself.

* * *

A/N: So there's that. I was pretty much blushing the entire time I wrote it- I feel so strange writing sex scenes...like I'm intruding or something. But I wanted to try it out...thoughts? And wish me luck on my oral surgery...see you all when I'm completely drugged up on pain meds. ahah

xx,  
JB


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry this took forever to post. I got my wisdom teeth out and was kind of in a painful drugged stupor for the first couple of days, then...yeah, I just didn't post. But anyway, I have the new bit here now- sorry it's a bit short, but it's something. So yeah, Chapter 6...

* * *

When Harry woke up, it was with an armful of sleeping blonde ex-Slytherin. He had to smile, thinking of the events that had happened the night before. He was sure that the blonde would have regretted what they'd done when it was over. So as much as he didn't want to do so, he had stood up, ready to leave the room and sleep in his own bed. But Draco wanted him to stay. He'd taken his hand, curled up against Harry's chest, and fallen asleep with him. That fairly shocked him- he would have never guessed Malfoy to be a snuggler. But it was a welcome surprise. And Draco had woken him up once more, in the pale light of early dawn, to make love again. Now he slept peacefully in Harry's arms, looking for all the world like a blonde angel. Harry thought he could spend hours just watching Draco sleep.

"Are you staring at me?" a groggy voice mumbled.

Harry laughed. "Only a little," he replied. "I couldn't help it- you're so beautiful when you sleep."

Draco opened his silver eyes to look into Harry's green ones. "As opposed to when I'm awake?" he replied sardonically.

He laughed again, and brought his fingers up to brush a strand of platinum hair from the other man's eyes. "No," he answered honestly, smiling softly at him. "You're always beautiful."

A blush tinted Draco's pale cheeks, making him seem even more beautiful than he already did. Harry had to think that no one should have the right to be that good-looking. It was almost too much. And he couldn't help but lean down to place a small kiss on the man's pink lips. Just then he thought of something, and pulled back to look into the silver eyes that stared at him.

"Hey," he said softly, "Last night…you called me Harry." He left the sentence hanging at the end- a question.

The silver eyes immediately narrowed. Harry knew that look well- he'd been on the receiving end of it quite a few times at Hogwarts. It was what the man did whenever he wasn't sure of what the other person wanted. It was his natural Slytherin instinct- immediate questioning of motives.

"So?" he asked in a measured tone. "You called me Draco."

"I know, I just…wondered what it meant."

"Oh, don't go all sentimental Hufflepuff on me," Draco groaned. But his eyes twinkled, contradicting his annoyed tone of voice. His gaze softened. "Look…Harry. I don't know what the hell happened last night. That was quite possibly the stupidest decision I have ever made. But-" he added, noting the look on Harry's face- "Whatever this is…I don't want it to stop."

The Gryffindor immediately leaned down and captured Draco's lips again, unable to stop grinning for anything in the world.

-----------------------------

_What the hell am I doing_? Draco wondered to himself constantly over the next couple of days. Getting into a relationship with Harry freaking Potter? It was possibly the worst idea of all time. He- _wait a minute…a relationship_? Was that what that was? He had no idea.

After that first night together, two days before, Harry had only slept in Draco's room- and the Slytherin wouldn't have it any other way. He hated to admit it, but he was already beginning to forget that there was a time when he slept without the comforting warmth of Gryffindor's arms around him. He knew he was now completely ruined for anything else. But he'd have to learn to do without Harry eventually. After all, the man would soon have to go back to his own life. Draco didn't want to think about it, but people obviously had to be looking for Harry. He had a job, and friends, and an entire world back in England. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew almost nothing about the Auror's life. It was fully possibly that he _was_ married to the she-weasel, and this…whatever it was…that he had with Draco was just a fling. He tried to ignore the panic that rose up inside of him whenever he thought of that possibility. But he had to find out the truth- so he decided to just ask.

"Harry…" he began one morning as they lay in bed together. The raven-haired man was playing with Draco's fingers, their hands perfectly entwined. He almost didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin the blissful silence between them, but his curiosity outweighed his apprehension.

"Mmm?" the other man asked lazily.

"Why are you here? I mean…I figured you'd be married to the Weasley girl by now, raising a brood of red-haired children and whatnot."

Harry sighed, and Draco felt the small _puff_ of it against his hair. "Ginny and I were together for awhile after Hogwarts, and everyone did assume that we'd get married. We were actually engaged for a bit…but I had to break it off. I just couldn't lie to her anymore. I loved her- I still do- but I'm not in love with her. She deserves better than that. She's actually taken up with Dean Thomas again- apparently he's always been in love with her, and told her so. They're getting married next spring, and I'm happy for her."

Draco listened in silence, noting that Harry still held his hand and played with his fingers as he talked. He instinctively curled closer to the other man- subconsciously ensuring that, at least right now, Harry belonged to _him_.

* * *

A/N: As always, I love reviews. Please leave them everyone?

xx,  
JB


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Once again, sorry it took so long to update!! I'm horrid at this whole doing-things-in-a-timely-fashion thing. And I don't know how long it's going to be before I can update again...so hopefully this next chapter will keep you from hating me for awhile? I hope you enjoy...and sorry for any random mistakes, I always write in at like 3 am when my thoughts are at their best but my actual mechanical brain is like dead. Oops?

Disclaimer (I always manage to forget this): I don't own them. Not even a little bit.

* * *

There was not much to do during the day. Draco had grown even more protective of Harry now that they were…what were they? Were they in a relationship? He wasn't sure- and he definitely wasn't going to bring it up to the blonde man. He could guess how well that conversation would go.

But he insisted that Harry "still needed to heal," which to Draco apparently meant that he was shut up in the flat all day with nothing to do. In his boredom, he had counted out the time he'd been in Chicago: Thirteen days. Three hundred and twelve hours. Eighteen thousand, seven hundred and twenty minutes. He'd read all the books in Draco's library that didn't bore him to death…which wasn't many, considering most of them had to do with medicine. He'd organized the silverware drawer, put his magazines in alphabetical order, and had a fairly interesting afternoon testing all the products in Draco's bathroom (which took an astonishing three hours). And now, Harry was _bored_.

He needed to get out. So he slipped out of his (okay, Draco's) pajama pants and into his own jeans, threw on a tee shirt, and left the building. It was a quick walk to the drugstore down the street, where Harry purchased cigarettes and a bag of chocolate- two things he had definitely missed in the last thirteen days.

Three hours later, he was on the balcony of Draco's flat, lazily smoking a cigarette, staring out at the city, thinking about what a whirlwind the last couple of days have been.

Harry felt something for Draco that he had never experienced before in his life- certainly not when he'd been with Ginny. Just thinking about the man sent a thrill up his spine, causing him to involuntarily smile. He spent long, lazy minutes musing over the feel of Draco's lips on his, the burning gaze of his silver eyes, the fact that every time the doctor walked through the door and grabbed him in an embrace, Harry grew intensely, blissfully happy.

The last thought scared him a bit. Everything had happened so quickly. Him and Malfoy…it was such a strange combination. And they had only gotten together a couple of days before. But still…he couldn't deny his feelings.

Harry began to realize that despite everything- his past animosity towards the Slytherin, their strained history, his severe lack of past relationships (besides Ginny), and the weird, absolutely unbelievable…_whatever_ the two men had just begun- he was beginning to fall completely in love with Draco Malfoy.

A familiar pair of arms snaked around his waist, bringing him out of that intense, scary thought.

"You know, as your doctor I am going to have to forbid you from such a filthy habit," Draco said in greeting. But even as he said it, he took the cigarette from between Harry's fingers and took a drag.

"Hypocrite," the Gryffindor countered with a chuckle.

He tilted his head, in better position to nibble on Draco's earlobe. He placed a series of small kisses on the soft skin under it and down his neck, earning a small moan from the blonde man.

"What were you thinking about so intently?" Draco sighed, leaning into Harry's soft touches.

"You," he replied honestly.

He felt the doctor smile, his jaw beneath Harry's lips. He turned around in Draco's arms, and pressed a kiss to the other man's lips. They were warm and pliant beneath his own, opening easily to allow Harry's tongue to slip inside.

They were completely lost in one another, spending several long, lazy minutes just kissing. Harry let out a contented sigh, realizing that he had never felt so relaxed, so comfortable, so _whole_ in all his life.

He wondered if Draco felt the same.

"You're concerned about something," the blonde said out of the blue, his words muffled due to the fact that he'd spoken against Harry's neck.

"Hmm?" Harry asked noncommittally, trying to seem blasé. _Damn Draco for being so perceptive._

Draco removed his mouth from the Gryffindor's skin, instead looking straight at him. Silver eyes bored into green with shrewd observance.

"Whenever you're thinking particularly hard about something, you get that look on your face. It's the same look you had back in fourth year for the entire month before you had to face the mermaids in the Black Lake."

Harry felt himself blush. "Well, I _was_ thinking about things. I- wait a minute. You noticed me all the way back at Hogwarts?"

This time, it was Draco's turn to blush. Harry couldn't help but feel a grin tug at his lips, seeing the usually reposed Slytherin look so uncomfortable.

"I…um…"

His grin widened. "You were looking at me back at school!" He couldn't resist hugging the blonde man tighter and placing a chaste kiss against his lips.

"Oh hush, Potter. So I may have noticed you back then- but only because you were a bloody pain in my arse! I've only now made the observance of how attractive that look happens to be."

But the damage was done. Harry couldn't stop smiling at the thought that even when they hated each other, Draco had been watching him. There was some insane part of him, during his time at Hogwarts, that had always sought out the Slytherin's attention. He'd always somewhat hoped that Malfoy was looking. And he was elated to find that no matter what Draco said, his hopes had been fulfilled. Malfoy had been watching. _Hah_.

"So what were you thinking about, anyway?" the man asked, bringing Harry out of his delighted reverie.

He immediately sobered, growing nervous at his own thoughts.

"Just…things about you," he replied. But Draco raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that that wasn't all on Harry's mind. _Ah, well_. Best to just summon up his Gryffindor courage and bite the bullet. "I was thinking about how happy I've been these last couple of days, and that all of this…whatever it is…has been so weird and crazy and fast, but that I've never felt so wonderful before. And that it's strange, but…IthinkImightbefallinginlovewithyou." His last words were spoken in a rush of exhaled breath as he looked down, unwilling to meet Draco's gaze.

He was sure that once he got that out, he would have thoroughly freaked the other man out. There was no way Draco would take lightly to what Harry had just announced to him. Now it was just a matter of how he would go about fixing his mistake, so as to not lose the blonde forever.

He felt a hand underneath his chin, willing his face upwards to meet Draco's gaze. He looked up, and to his immense shock he saw a small smile- a _shy_ smile- gracing the man's beautiful features. He didn't say anything- but he didn't have to. Instead, he just took Harry's chin more firmly in his fingers, and closed the distance between them with a kiss.

Neither of them stopped smiling the entire time.

--------------------------------------

As Draco fell asleep, holding Harry tightly against him, he thought about the fact that he had a major problem:

He was head-over-heels in love with Harry bloody Potter.

It was the only thing on his mind for the entire next day at work. He hadn't said anything back to Harry- but he was hoping that the black-haired man understood. He'd never been good with sharing his feelings. Saying _I love you_ to someone would be…scary, to say the least. Especially when that someone, up till two weeks earlier, had been his most hated enemy.

He couldn't concentrate on his job. Damn Potter, with his easygoing attitude, and brilliant smile, and a laugh that seemed to warm Draco from the inside out. The Gryffindor was making it impossible to think about anything else.

And in all honesty, Draco didn't care one bit.

He couldn't wait to get home to Harry the next night. Draco had been summoning up whatever ounce of courage he had throughout the entire day. He wanted to tell Harry _I love you_.

He could already imagine the look on the other man's face- the smile that would light up his eyes, the feeling it would give Draco to see it. He practically ran home in anticipation. But he managed to calm himself. After all, he was still a Malfoy. He didn't want to look ridiculous.

Okay, so _maybe_ he pressed the button on the lift a few dozen times, uselessly willing it to go faster. And _maybe_ he got off two floors before his own, taking the steps two at a time to get to his flat faster. But no one needed to know how eager he was to see the raven-haired man. Least of all the said man- Merlin only knew how he'd hold _that _over Draco's head. But no matter. He wanted to see Harry.

The Gryffindor wasn't in the kitchen, or the living room, or out on the balcony. Draco wrinkled his brows in confusion, wondering if perhaps he'd gone out for more cigarettes. But then he heard muffled voices coming from his own office, and- even more confused, wondering who on Earth Harry could be talking to- stepped down the hallway, into the room.

For a minute, he vaguely wondered if Potter had been talking to himself. From the doorway, Draco could only see Harry's back. _Gods, does he always have to look so damn delectable_? He wondered idly. Even clothed in a simple pair of jeans and a faded tee shirt, and just looking at his back, the man looked ravishing. It would have been highly unfair to see…if Draco hadn't witnessed even more of that astonishing beauty for himself. He felt a ridiculous jolt of pride at the fact that Harry loved him- that Harry was _his_.

Bringing himself out of his musings, he decided he needed to enter the room. After all, if Potter really was talking to himself, Draco wanted to bring him out of it. And he figured he could easily do so.

He walked the couple of short steps over to Harry and snaked an arm around his waist, planting a small kiss on the back of his neck. Harry had obviously not been expecting him, because the response that he gave was to stiffen his back and let out a small sort of squeak. Not exactly encouraging.

Frowning, Draco looked up. "What's the matter, love?" he questioned, still staring at the other man. When Harry still remained frustratingly silent- but a small cough was heard from the other side of the room- Draco suddenly grew shocked, and turned his gaze away from Harry. What he saw in front of him made his eyes widen as he fully took in the sight of the other person in the room. He couldn't think of what to say, but finally found a voice.

"Granger…"

* * *

A/N: So there's my next installment! As always, PLEASE review. It really does make my day. =)

xx,  
JB


	8. Chapter 8 JUST AN AUTHOR'S NOTE

JUST AN AUTHOR'S NOTE

Sadly, not an update =( I just wanted to let whoever is still around reading this story to know that I'm still alive, I haven't left ahah.

But anyway, I just wanted to say that I have NOT forgotten about this story- it has been simmering in my mind for months, but I haven't been able to get any good creativity flowing for it. I don't want to write anything that isn't good, of course, but I will finish it. Seriously. It's just…on hold for awhile.

Other than that, sophomore year of college has been kicking my butt so far, and I've been trying to deal with that in addition to a zillion other things. I have been writing, just…not this. I'm working on a novel-length story that's been taking almost all of my capacity, a _Twilight_ fanfic that I'm writing mostly for my little sister's Christmas present and that I will probably put on this site. If you're interested and like _Twilight_, check it out- I actually really, really like it. Besides that, I've got a couple little one-shots and things- you know how those damn plot bunnies are, they never leave. I'm putting those up here too…eventually…once I have time.

So if anyone is still around to read this, thanks so much. I promise, I WILL finish 'Unexpected'. In the meantime, read&review the other stuff I plan on putting up here, it makes me happy to get comments on my writing.

Much love 3

xx,  
JB


End file.
